


your love is a fire (i'll let it burn me up)

by interstellarbeams



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Relationship, F/M, Feelings Realization, Light Angst, Mentions of Foggy Nelson, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 21:09:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12418215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarbeams/pseuds/interstellarbeams
Summary: It's never a good idea to have a crush on your coworker. Karen knows this but that doesn't stop her from sticking a finger or two into the flames.





	your love is a fire (i'll let it burn me up)

**Author's Note:**

> Nora ([GreenFish](http://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenFish)) did an awesome job, once again, of helping me turn this mess into a much more enjoyable and concise read.
> 
> Before I started watching Daredevil I was pretty sure that I would ship Frank/Karen (still think I will) but there is something about Matt/Karen that is tugging at my heart strings.
> 
> This is inspired by 2x03 and 2x04 of Daredevil but it's kinda my take on their unrequited relationship. Enjoy! Kudos and comments are appreciated!

Karen knows that she will probably get burned: playing with fire has a way of doing that to you. 

Honestly, she should know better -- _hasn't she had enough heartache to last a lifetime?_ \-- but every graze of his fingertips against her elbow as they walk down the street, and every smile he shoots in her direction sets her heart racing. She prays that he can’t hear it. _How embarrassing would that be?_

She tries to tell herself that it's just a stupid crush on a coworker. _It happens to everyone, right? It’ll all blow over soon_ , she thinks, as she lies awake in bed at night, listening to the sound of her neighbors arguing. 

It might have been different if they worked somewhere else with more coworkers to create a buffer between them, but as it is, there's just the three of them, and Foggy -- _bless him_ \-- doesn't have a clue.

But the feelings don’t go away, despite her many attempts to thwart them with random mediocre dates, and long nights of drinking alone at her kitchen table, even despite Foggy’s many attempts to draw her out. She assumes Matt will be at Josie’s, and she doesn't want to risk it.

 _When did she become such a coward_ , she wonders, staring into the bottom of her empty glass. 

\-----

Karen wakes up gasping -- her hand over her heart, breath rasping in her chest, a flush of arousal creeping up her neck. 

It was one thing to have a crush on your coworker, and an entirely different thing to wake up panting from a _sex dream_ about them. 

_No more hard liquor before bed, Karen_ , she thinks to herself, as she walks to the bathroom, turns on the faucet and wrings out a rag over the sink. She presses its welcoming coolness to her flushed cheeks and neck, sighing in relief. Glancing into the mirror, above the sink, she stares into her own eyes for a moment, before flipping off the light and plunging the room into darkness. 

She should feel ashamed, but she can't bring herself to care that she doesn't, not even one little bit.

\-----

The hum of the window A.C. unit is the only sound in the room when he asks her if she's okay. 

She can't help but lie and say everything is fine, when all she really wants to do is lock the door, push him into the wall beside her desk, and allow herself to discover the softness of his lips under hers, and the roughness of his stubble as it scrapes across her skin.

But that would be inappropriate. She just smiles politely instead -- despite his inability to see it -- and ducks her head back into Ms. Cardena’s file. She scribbles notes in her legal pad, as if her life depends upon it, until she finally hears the sound of his retreating footsteps.

Karen drops her pen onto the notepaper with a soft thunk, and runs her hands through her hair in agitation, cursing herself for a fool. 

_Why don't you just say something?_ she asks herself, glancing across the room toward the rippled glass door of his office.

She says nothing.

\-----

Karen goes out later that week with Matt and Foggy, as they attempt to distract themselves from the chaos that is reigning in the city, especially in Hell's Kitchen. Josie’s is more crowded than usual, but they manage to claim one of the pool tables in the back. 

They joke, tease, and drink, of course, and after a while, the pool game becomes more of a bonding experience than a distraction. The longer it goes on, the more tipsy she becomes, and the more her inhibitions loosen. She finds herself inching closer to Matt, her beer bottle resting against the green felt of the table, while Foggy’s back is turned. 

Matt chuckles, pool cue in hand as she tries to redirect his shots by standing a little bit too close. Matt’s a passable pool player, but in his defense, he’s blind, and she has no qualms about using that to her advantage in her inebriated state.

When Foggy comes back from the bathroom, he eyes their closeness with surprise, but says nothing, going along with it. Karen catches the half-smirk on his face as he glances over at them fleetingly. She knows Foggy’s on her side, even though they’ve never actually talked about her feelings for Matt.

Unfortunately, the night takes a sharp veer towards chaos when one of the Irish mobsters who’d escaped the _Punisher's_ wrath shows up at the bar, begging them for help. When Karen _finally_ falls into bed that night, she stares up at the ceiling, grateful for the distraction that Grotto had caused, but wondering how the night might have ended differently if their flirtatious game hadn't been interrupted. 

\-----

Then a day comes when they're _finally_ alone together -- No Foggy, no clients, no distractions -- and all Karen can think to do is to help him tie his tie. _You're a real genius_ , she thinks to herself, as her fingers slide across the smooth silk. 

Up close, she’s thrown by his ability to draw her in, like a moon to its planet’s gravity, and she has to fight to keep her mind on the task at hand.

“Karen?” 

His soft, slightly husky voice, washes over her, surprisingly calming her and her sudden nerves. 

“Hmm?” she hums under her breath, brow furrowed intently as she stares at his tie, deliberately keeping her gaze diverted from his face. 

“You don't have to do this,” he states, eyes staring straight forward, unseeing. 

His direct gaze has always unnerved her if she's being honest, but it’s not because of his blindness. He has the uncanny ability to see into people, to know what they're feeling -- what they truly _need_ \-- and that is what sets her on edge. 

She's afraid that if he knew about her past, it would turn him and even Foggy away from her. If they knew who she _really_ was, they wouldn’t want to be around her anymore. She’s sure of it.

 _Sometimes past mistakes should stay in the past_ , she thinks, biting her lip with uncertainty.

“You mean tie your tie?” she blurts out, tittering out a nervous laugh, “I don't see you attempting to do it yourself.” 

“I didn’t mean--” he starts, before cutting himself off.

Karen finishes tightening the knot, smoothing his collar over top of the burgundy silk and then smoothing his shirt across his shoulders. She ignores the taut muscles beneath her palms, before pausing, her hands gingerly resting on his shoulders. 

“I don't have to do _what_?” she asks, heart racing once again, as his closeness -- and the clean scent of his laundry soap -- fills her senses. 

He pauses for another minute, his mouth working as if he's feeling the word -- _words?_ \-- rolling around in his mouth. 

“Pretend,” he finally says.

One of his hands reach up, clasping onto her wrist, before he drags it down, wrapping his fingers around hers. 

She stands there gaping, her brain barely processing, as he waits -- patiently, silently. 

She shouldn't be surprised by his touch: they've hugged any number of times. Hell, she had even kissed his cheek once, before these _damned_ feelings appeared. No big deal.

So why is she so affected by the gentle touch of his hand now?

She struggles to find something, _anything_ to say, but she's drawing a blank, _shit._

The slight pressure of his fingers is still there, as she decides to be brave and stares up into his eyes. His face is impassive and yet -- _is that a slight glimmer of worry?_

She lifts her other hand to his cheek, her fingers lightly grazing the reddish-purple bruise present there.

 _How could a man who is so calm and so controlled be so clumsy?_ she wonders, smoothing her thumb across his cheek, before barely touching the tip of it to the corner of his mouth. 

His soft inhalation is loud in his quiet apartment.

She wavers on the edge of indecision, like a trapeze artist walking a tight rope over a crowded auditorium. Except, she doesn't have a pole to balance her, and she feels like she's falling through open air without a net to catch her.

He releases her hand suddenly -- _in disappointment? impatience? anger?_ \-- and she gasps, before quickly grabbing onto his face with both hands, and laying a gentle kiss on his bruised cheek. She drags her lips carefully across the plane of his cheekbone, before brushing his lips with her own.

His hands stutter down the cloth of her blouse until they finally come to rest at her waist, his fingers bunching in the excess, as she deepens the kiss. 

Karen gasps quietly. His breath ghosts over her lips, as he pulls away, only to draw her back in. He claims her lips ferociously, in sharp contrast to the careful Matt that she’s always known, drawing her closer to him until their bodies are flush.

The moment drags on, their lips come together, again and again, as they explore each other, standing in the middle of his living room with the morning sunlight shining in. 

She pulls back finally, stepping back from him and turning around, her fingers going to her lips unconsciously. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice still soft, but concerned. “I mean-- you were okay with that, with us kissing?” 

_The kissing isn't the problem_ , she thinks. _It's the feelings that drag you under._

She nods her head, holding back tears, only belatedly realizing her mistake, when he comes closer, his fingertips grazing her shoulder blade and causing her to shiver, before he places his hand on her shoulder. 

She grasps onto his fingers, squeezing briefly, before slipping out from under their grip, and searching her purse for her keys. 

“Um-- I should go. You know how grumpy Foggy gets if he doesn't get his coffee, especially after the night he had last night.” Karen laughs awkwardly, her voice wavering with unshed tears. “How he manages to drink so much, I’ll never know,” she rambles on, unable to stop herself, before she quickly crosses to the door, opens and shuts it with a decisive click. 

Karen barely escapes. Disappointment and anger at her stupidity wars within her. Her shoulders start shaking and tears stream down her face. She pauses at the head of the staircase, her hand resting on the banister, trying to reign in her emotional outburst. 

She wipes ineffectually at her tears, her fingertips slipping against the wetness. Clearing her throat and sniffling, she heads down the stairs.

Her job and an awkward reunion in the bullpen tomorrow are what awaits her. 

_God, why was she so stupid? Why did she kiss him?_

_Play with fire and you're bound to get burned_ , she thinks, regrettably, as she steps out onto the busy sidewalk.


End file.
